


Be Careful What You Wish For

by ausmac



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 08:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7926988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ausmac/pseuds/ausmac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a Jedi Master and Healer meets his once-loved student, darkness might be more difficult to resist than the attraction between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have altered certain aspects of SW lore for this alternate story. I created two characters I was very fond of when working on another never-completed story and decided write one just about them.

The Imperial Star Destroyer "Fearsome", along with its horde of TIE fighters and bombers, circled the small blue-brown world at a respectable distance.  On the bridge of the Destroyer, Captain Hexam studied the readoubts from the sensors with a shake of his head. 

"I've never seen anything like this.  That planet is completely englobed in a web of very small satellites.  Amazing.  No ship is going to get close to that planet without earning some very nasty damage."  The Captain looked toward the figure standing at the front of the bridge.  "Just what is this place, My Lord - an arsenal?" 

"No."  The voice was deep, rich, mildly amused.  Starlight glinted on the fall of blue-black hair that disappeared into the curving sweep of a black cloak.  "Illiam's Reach is...was...a Jedi training facility." 

The Captain frowned.  "Then there are how many Jedi down there?" 

"Just one."  The man turned and walked back to stand beside the captain, looking down at the readings.  "You might call him...a housekeeper." 

"Housekeeper?  That doesn't sound very dangerous." 

The other laughed with a surprisingly warm chuckle.  "To the contrary, my dear Captain.  Bayenne could probably reach out from his study and cripple most of this ship’s systems.  If such a thought would ever enter that pristine, perfect mind."  He pointed at one of the TIE fighers.  "Have the fighters and bombers position themselves above the inhabited sites.  And put me in contact with the surface.  I want to speak with him."

 

                               * * *

 

Bayenne Forelle walked out of his study onto the smooth stone of the courtyard and looked up at the cloud-swept sky.  Somehwere out there, Korde was waiting.  He could sense the familiar dark swirl of his power; it tingled across his mind like the sound of a well-known voice.  Or the touch of a well-known hand. 

The breeze swirled the bottom of his light brown long-sleeved wool coat as he walked.  It was autumn and the weather was starting to cool as the leeaves turned gold and brown.  He wore the clothing that the people of the local village had made for him; soft brushed suede pants tucked into matching suede ankle boots and a long-sleeved jacket belted at the waist with a braided leather sash.  The leather was from a local animal that tanned to a rich gold, matching his eyes. 

In his youth Bayenne had worn satin and velvet sprinkled with jewels; the son of a Duke of his homeworld could afford the best.  He'd been a young fop with little on his mind but art and dalliance.  The discovery of his Jedi powers had changed all that.  His calm, patient nature had made him an ideal teacher and he'd loved the work, loved being on the quiet, distant world far from the intrigues of power and politics. 

He knew his time of seclusion was over.  And perhaps his life was over, as well.  So many of the Jedi were dead, killed by Palpatine, Vader and the other betrayers.  He had expected someone to come for him before then and was even more surprised - and distressed - that it was Korde.  Korde the bright-eyed, the laughing...the deadly.  Korde his one-time friend and student.  His most fatal mistake. 

His pilot and friend, Duffy Craig, hurried across from the office complex.  "Bay, there's a call coming through from some Imperial starship.  Someone called Lord..." 

"Korde.  Yes, I know.  I'm coming, thank you Duffy." 

He settled himself in front of the communicator and flicked on the machine.  "I'm here, Korde." 

The familiar voice came from the speaker.  "So I see, Bayenne.  Will you make this difficult?" 

Bayenne smiled slightly.  "Of course I will." 

"Think again."  The voice hardened. "I have a Star Destroyer and a squadron of TIEs positioned over ever inhabited centre on the planet.  It will take only a moment to order them to turn Illiams Reach into a burnt out dustbowl." 

Bayenne sighed.  "What is it you want, Korde?" 

"You.  On this ship.  Immediately." 

Bayenne considered for a moment or two, stretching upwards through the Force.  "I won't turn, you know that." 

"The future is so unpredictable.  Only death is certain - if you resist." 

"Very well.  I'll come up within the half hour."  He disconnected the signal and turned, catching Duffy's horrified look. 

"You can't be serious!  You're not going up there!  They'll kill you." 

"Perhaps.  Perhaps not.   But even so, I have to go.  And death is simply a door into another existence within the Force, where I would be with my friends and brothers.  But I suspect something else..."  He looked at his friend and smiled.  "I'll need the "Duffy's Luck" to get up there, I can't guarantee you'll get her back..." 

"Oh no!"  Duffy held up his hand.  "You're a lousy pilot, and we both know it.  I'll take you up." 

Bayene looked across at Duffy, his golden eyes bright.  "That's very generous, but I can't let you do that.  It's much too dangerous." 

"My middle name, Danger."  Duffy smiled, his round, pleasant face crinkling.  "I have to come with you, Bay.  I'd go crazy worrying about you down here.  And you'd probably get the docking wrong and slam into the deck.  Then where would I be?"

Sighing, the Jedi Master nodded.  "Very well.  Perhaps you are needed, after all."  Standing, he looked around his comfortable office for the last time.  Reaching to the desk, he picked up the slender hilt of his lighsabre and clipped it to his belt.  Taking his favorite gitar from the wall, he left his home and walked with Duffy to the small spaceport.

 

                               * * *

 

Korde watched the neat little freighter landing on the deck of the main shuttle entry with barely controlled impatience.  He'd felt the growing swell of power as the ship had swung up out of orbit.  The taste was familiar, irritating and tantalizing at once.  

The ramp hit the deck with a soft clang and moments later Bayenne walked down.  Korde watched him with a smile and a shake of his head. 

"Just look at him.  You'd think he was out for a summer day stroll.  Ah, my Bayenne...." 

Captain Hexam frowned.  "Is it my imagination or does he...glow?" 

Korde's smile grew.  "No, it's not your imagination.  It's the golden man himself."  He watched in renewed appreciation as Bayenee glided across the deck, his hair a golden glint under the cool lights.  "On his homeworld they call him Bayenne D'sellair - Bayenne the Beautiful.  Musician, artist, poet and Jedi Master."  _And I may have to destroy him..._

A party of stormtroopers led by a sub-commander approached Bayenne and Duffy; the officer blocked the two men's paths and shoved at Duffy, pointing to his holstered blaster. 

"You there, hand over the weapon." 

Korde turned slightly to the Captain.  "Watch this...this should be amusing." 

Bayenne looked across at the officer, his head slightly to one side.  "That was very rude.  You should get down on your knees and beg this man's pardon." 

The officer hesitated for a moment, looked stricken, then sank to his knees.  "Yes...I'm very sorry.  I was...rude." 

Korde's smile grew.  "Ever the teacher."  Bayenne walked around the kneeling man and across to Korde.  "Your officers have no manners, Korde."  His voice was soft and sang like music in Korde's mind. 

"It's their Imperial training."  He looked down into the well-known features and as the sun-tinted face was lifted to him he took in a sharp breath.  _I didn't think it was possible for you to improve, but age has certainly not touched you, has it..._

Bayenne's smile was mild.  "Thank you, you're very kind.  And may I say that you have filled out admirably." 

Korde's head dipped in a brief bow.  "May I introduce Captain Hexam.  Captain, this is Bayenne Forelle, until recently Jedi Master of the FarReach Training Academy." 

The Captain nodded a brief salute, looking across at the smaller man with fascination.  "You're the first Jedi Master I've ever met, Master Forelle."  

The three men, with Duffy following behind, walked towards the exit to the landing bay.  Korde could feel Bayenne scanning around him; his energy was bright and clear and it aggravated Korde's heightened senses.  Bayenne continued to investigate the area even as he spoke to the Captain. 

"I have been somewhat out of things of late; although I am a Master, as Korde has said, I am not a warrior.  My lack of interest in fighting almost kept me from being a Jedi at all.  FarReach concentrated on the non-military aspects of Jedi training." 

"Bayenne is very modest, Captain.  He's not your typical hack and thrust fighter, but don't be deceived by this deceptively mild front.  He could toss you from one end of the bay to the other without raising a sweat."  He cast a look back at Duffy.  "Who's your friend?" 

Bayenne turned to the pilot.  "Korde, allow me to introduce Duffy Crisp, Darvinian freighter pilot and friend.  I hope you won't that against him, however, and will allow him to leave.  He is of little threat to you or the Empire." 

Korde sized Duffy up, unconcerned by the Darvinian's fearless glare.  "Any friend of yours is an enemy of mine, so I think we'll keep him for a while." 

They entered a lift which took them up to officers country.  Duffy was taken to secure quarters, after being calmed by Bayenne.  "It will be alright, Duffy.  Don't cause any problems, I'll get you out of here somehow." 

The Darvinian nodded, and gave Bayenne a quick hug.  "You take care of yourself, Bay.  I can look after me."  He cast a quick, unhappy glance at Korde.  "And watch him - he's a bad man." 

The Captain went off to get the ship underway and Korde took Bayenne to his quarters.  They were rich without being opulant, with deep wine and royal blue rugs and hangings taking some harshness from the metal walls and floor.  Bayenne walked to the window to look down at the planet beneath them and Korde stood beside him.  They were silent for a time, until Bayenne finally spoke, very softly. 

"I am prepared for death, Korde.  But if by living I can save you, I would do that also." 

Korde answered, his voice level and completely controlled.  "You'll never understand.  There is nothing I need saving from.  I am who and what I am.  I just wish that I could share it with you." 

Bayenee swung to face him.  There had always been a physical attraction between them; the young darkly intense student and his older teacher.  Bayenne knew his own desires and needs and he had refused to allow himself any physical intimacy with his students.  But what had seemed an enormous gap between an eighteen year old student and a twenty-five year old teacher was less now.  Korde was twenty nine, Bayenne thirty six.  The age and the years meant nothing. 

He sensed that need reflected in Korde and refused to grant it.  "I can never share it.  You know that.  Come back to me.  Be with me in the light." 

The voice was a siren call propelled by the full Force-manipulatory powers of a Jedi Master.  The Darkness buckled beneath the impact and Korde wavered as memory returned, the memory of his youth, of the friends he'd seen killed by the Empire.  

But the misery triggered anger and the anger triggered the Dark.  The battle had taken only seconds and he'd won it, again.  He turned to Bayenne and pulled him into his arms, undoing the clip at the back of Bayenne's head to let the shoulder lenth wave of gold fall free.  He ran his gloved fingers through it and bent to smell the spicy, clean odour. 

Bayenne stood rigid, unresponsive as the warm lips descended to his throat, nuzzling under his ear.  Old Jedi body control techniques sprang to his mind as the lips travelled around his chin and fixed on his mouth, taking it in a slow, deep kiss.  Korde's skin was hot against him and he felt good, far too good.  

"I've wanted to do this for a long time.  You wanted me back then," Korde whispered against his mouth, "just like you want me now.  But you wouldn't break your stupid rules."  Korde pulled Bayenne closer, allowed him to feel the strength of his desire.  "But I'm in charge here.  I make the rules.  I can do with you as I wish...and I don't think you'd put up much of a fight." 

Bayenne slowly lifted his chin, seeking control as one hand continued to stroke his hair and the other held him pressed to Korde in disturbing intimacy.  His voice was just a little unsteady, a shameful weakness.  "You might be able to subdue me, use me against my will, though I doubt you'd come away unscathed.  My body is a fragile thing - but I would still be as I am.  And as I am is with the Light." 

Korde's hand moved down Bayenne's side, around towards the front...and slipped the lighsabre from the clip on his belt.  He let his other hand fall and stepped back, holding the slim gold sabre up.  He pressed the tab and the gold beam sprang out, singing sweetly.  They stared at each other across the humming beam.  "I'll take this with me, just in case.  And don't try to influence the crew; your door is guarded by droids and they don't react to the Force."  He turned the blade off and head for the door.  As it opened he turned back, expressionless.  "I'll return at dinner time.  Take the time to consider your position." 

He turned in a swirl of black cape and was gone. 

The Captain intercepted Korde on his way to the Bridge.  "There is a message coming in from the Emperor for you, My Lord." 

Korde changed direction in an instant.  "Have the call transferred to the Holographic receptor." 

The equipment in the communications centre was the very latest, designed to send and receive holographic transmissions through hypespace.  When Korde stood on the transmission platform the air above him shimmered and the light formed into the face of his Master.  He sank to one knee and bowed his head. 

"I am here, Master." 

"So I see.  How goes your mission?" 

Korde looked up into the pale lined face.  "Very well.  He came to me without a fight." 

Palpatine considered Korde's words for a few seconds.  "What chance do you feel there is of converting him?" 

He'd been expecting that question and knew he had to answer truly; Palpatine would read a lie, even from that distance. "There is a chance, Master, but not a certainty.  He was the Jedi's acknowledged Master of empathic control and their Healing teacher - he is the most centred Jedi I've ever known.  Turning him would be....very difficult." 

Palpatine smiled.  "He would certainly present a challenge, then.  Bring him to me.  If he cannot be converted, he will be killed.  Either way, the Jedi fraternity lose.  His death or conversion would be a great blow to their morale, would it not?" 

Korde nodded, sad in spite of himself.  "Yes.  He is considered to be very special." 

"Excellent.  I am pleased with you, Korde."  The image shimmered and faded away. 

Korde stood and left the chamber, considering his Master's words.  He suspected that Palpatine knew there was something between him and his ex-teacher, which was why he'd been sent in the first place.  His Master would use him to break Bayenne if he saw that as the most direct course to take.  And as much as he wanted Bayenne with him, he suspected that his teacher would not live well with the Dark Side.  That which made him special would be snuffed out.  Perhaps, in his case, there was a fate worse than death.

 

                               * * *

 

As large and powerful as they were, Imperial Star Destroyers were not swift.  Changing course for them was a major exercise; they were expected to blow the opposition out of their way, and their own forces knew better than to be somewhere they were going. 

When the freak wormhole appeared in front and slightly to one side of the Destroyer "Fearesome" it was no great concern.  But the matter, including rocks the size of small moons, that spewed from its unexpected mouth, were another thing.  Under normal circumstances the ship's anti-collision shields would have been active, but the shield office on duty had taken them off line for servicing.  Before the command crew could even begin to raise shields or alter course, the "Fearsome" was plowing through a mass of destructive rocks moving at near light speed. 

If a ship could be said to scream with pain, the "Fearsome" did.  Collision and impact sirens wailing, the big ship bucked and shuddered to the numerous impacts.  Gaping holes were torn in her sides from which air, contents and crew were sucked out into the vacuum.  The crew struggled to raise the shields but were only partly successful and hundreds died in the first few seconds of terrified chaos. 

The quarters assigned to Bayenne, high on the upper levels of the crew quarters, were protected by perpetual light shields that served to deflect some of the stream of missiles.  But one got through, striking the side of the ship and imbedding itself through the wall, smashing through supports and plates, bending the thick plating in like paper.  The shields had slowed its progress but the impact was still devestating.  

Korde had just returned to visit Bayenne when the sirens began to scream and the ship began ringing and booming with the sounds of impact.  Neither had time to do anything but stand; the meteoroid struck, pushing wall ribbing aside; a wall beam struck Korde and threw him backwards.  His agonised cry was cut short as the beam slammed him down onto the floor.  Bayenne, who had been thrown to the deck by the impact, dragged himself across the room, grabbed hold of the beam and pulled.  It barely moved and he could see the blood seeping from a hole in Korde's chest. 

Frustrated, fearful, Bayenne's emotions burst forth in a flood of power.  With a growl of rage he grabbed the beam and threw it across the room, to slam like a spear through the wall.  He threw himself down next to Korde, forcing his hands over the wound, drawing on the Force to knit the torn flesh and blood vessel. 

Korde looked up at him, pale and smiling.  "Now, that's how you use the Dark Force.  Not too bad...for a beginner." 

"Be quiet.  Save your strength for healing." 

Korde struggled upright and shivvered.  "It's alright, I managed to keep off most of the impact.."  He shiverred again and Bayenne gathered him into his arms.  Korde sighed and closed his eyes.  "No, you're right, I need a great deal of personal attention..." 

"Will you be quiet!  You are a bad, dangerous creature and I should have let you die."  As he spoke, he stroked the dark head with a hand that shook more than it should.  "I'm very stupid." 

Korde turned his face into the hand and kissed the palm.  Bayenne froze and looked down; Korde put one hand behind his head and pulled him down into a kiss.  "Yes, you are.  And so am I.  A well-matched pair of idiots."  He looked up into Bayenne's eyes, seeing the concern that the older man was trying to conceal.  "I'm alright...aren't I, Master Healer?" 

"Yes.  Mostly.  Broken rib, possibly a collapsed lung.  Stay still."  Bayenne looked at the smoking meteor lodged in the wall.  "At least its a tight fit; no air escaping.  But the door..."  He nodded at the bucklet doorframe.  "We'll have to be cut out of this place." 

"I'll get comfortable, then."  Korde wriggled back against him, winced and tried not to breathe too deeply.  "I don't know what's going on out there, but I suppose we'll be cut free in time."  Pushing his head up, he watched the pale face above him that was so expressive of Bayenne's emotions.  "You do realise that was a little exercise in Dark Side power." 

"I am aware of that."  Bayenne's voice was tainted with annoyance.  "It won't happen again." 

But Korde knew how easy it was to slide down the Dark Path.  The annoyance in Bayenne's tone showed how his old friend was already slipping; Bayenne was never annoyed.  "Well, if it is the first time, you did pretty good...though I guess you wouldn't see it that way." 

"As a matter of fact," Baynne said, "it wasn't the first.  I first tasted the Dark Side when I was studying at University on Coruscant."  He settled Korde into his arms, resting the dark head against his shoulder.  "I was about eighteen years old, studying Fine Arts and music.  There was an older student - your typical bully; big, muscled, mean-natured.  He took it upon himself to make life miserable for anyone he considered a runt.  Which meant people like me, of course.  I'd only just started finding out about my Force abilities, they weren't common knowledge.  While he just teased me I could live with it.  But when he started beating up on the younger, weaker kids, things started getting nasty." 

Bayenne sighed, his eyes distant, and Korde linked his fingers with Bayenne's though the other didn't seem to notice it.  "I found him one day when he'd trapped a poor little underclassman in a toilet and was beating the lights out of him.  I just...lost control.  Lost my temper.  This terrible power came to me and I picked him up and smashed him into a wall.  Broke two ribs, an upper arm bone and he had concussion."  

His eyes flickered and he looked down at the hand that Korde held.  He twisted the long, fine fingers but didn't withdraw them from Korde's grasp.  "I used my powers to hurt instead of heal.  I knew I could have killed him...wanted to kill him.  That scared me more than anything.  I didn't like to think of those sort of feelings inside of me.  So I put the darkness away and went to Illyams to teach Healing.  And I swore never to touch the Dark Side again." 

"But you just did," Korde whispered.  "Doesn't that tell you something...that maybe you were meant to experience both sides?  In darkness, the light shows brighter.  The light and the dark are in you - is it logical to ignore a part of yourself? 

"Oh yes, it certainly is."  Bayenne smiled slightly as he stroked his free hand over Korde's chest, checking the damage, healing the hurt.  "Darkness without control is anarchy.  I am a Healer - to become part of the Dark would be to lose who I am." 

"Healing is what you do, not who you are." 

Bayenne shook his head, his eyes sad.  "I you think that, then you really don't know me at all." 

Rescue crew cut through the jammed door a short time later and after seeing to their injuries, the two men went directly to the Bridge.  The Captain had assembled the duty offices to report but Korde went straight to the shields officer.  "Sub-Commander, why were our collision screens offline?" 

The man stuttered.  "Sssir...I didn't...they were only down for a very...sshort t..time..." 

Korde's eyes darkened; his right hand twitched and the man screamed, clutching his chest.  Bayenee stepped forward and Korde snarled at him.  "Stay out of this, Jedi.  This man caused the death of hundreds.  I will not abide such stupidity." 

The officer fell to the deck as his co-workers backed away.  Korde continued to stand over him until he stopped moving and then he turned to the Captain.  "Have this garbage disposed of.  And inform the crew that the man responsible has paid for his mistake." 

He turned and brushed past Bayenne; the older man watched him go, shocked at the show of brutality.  This was certainly not the young man he'd taught not so long ago.  This was Darkness personified.


	2. Chapter 2

Repairs having been made sufficient to get them home, the "Fearsome" made a series of gentle jumps back to Coruscant. _  
_

Bayenne stood on the bridge and watched as they swung into a military orbit.  He'd never expected to return here, to the home of Empire, to where the spider dwelt in his lair.  The planet reeked of power and ocrruption, of great events and wondrous creations.  It teemed with life, with light, with darkness.  It was the most extraordinary thing he'd ever encountered. 

They shuttled down to the Palace and were ordered to the Imperial presence.  As Bayenne walked with Korde through the Palace corridors he sensed two other Force presences; the unmistakable dark glow of the Emperor and another, slightly lesser power: Darth Vader. 

It was hard not to be a little afraid.  There didn't seem to be any way out of this fix that didn't include either being turned or dying.  Neither option was very attractive, but the latter was the one he _should_ be prepared to take.  Walking with Korde beside him, feeling the familiar warmth of his presence, it was difficult to contemplate his own death.  Just then there seemed a great deal to live for. 

Thinking of living reminded him of another life.  "Can you arrange to release Duffy?  I would be...grateful." 

"I'll ask.  My Master is difficult to predict, but he may agree.  If it were my choice I'd let him go - but it isn't.  You can be very persuasive, though - you could try smiling at him - it would probably work with most people.  But then again, Palpatine isn't most people." 

They had to wait for awhile until the Emperor had finished with routine court matters.  When they entered his offices the only other persons present were a quartet of the red-garbed Imperial Guards and the black-cloacked and shielded figure of Lord Darth Vader. 

Both the Emperor and Vader watched the two men cross the room towards them.  Korde sank to one knee and dipped his head.  Bayenne stood, outwardly calm, centring himself as he looked across into the pale yellow-eyed vissage of Palpatine. 

The Emperor was seated behind a white dark-wooden desk in a high backed chair.  He flicked one hand up.  "Rise, my Lord Korde.  I am pleased to see you."  His eyes switched to Bayenne.  "And you as well, Bayenne Forelle.  I have heard much of you." 

"All of it good, I hope."  He was quite proud of the level, low tone of his voice. 

"Yes.  I sense you have great potential.  As one of us your power would be considerable.  And your choices at this time are quite simple:  agree to receive the Dark Side and become my servant or stay as you are and die." 

Bayenne tucked his hands behind his back and nodded, thoughtful.  "Bluntly put.  But I'm not all that happy with either choice - is there a third alternative?" 

As he spoke, Korde stepped forward and laid his lightsabre on the desk before Palpatine.  The Emperor lifted the slim blad and turned it absently between his fingers. 

"Amusing.  I have quite a collection of these taken from dead Jedis."  With a flick of one hand he tossed it twards a surprised Bayenne, who reached out through the Force and brought it to his right hand.  "You may keep yours.  I doubt you could cut your way out of my Palace."  He watched, expressionless, as Bayenne clipped the sabre to his belt.  "I will give you some days to consider your position.  At the end you will choose.  Korde will assist you to make the right choice.  If you choose death, he will assist you with that as well.  You may leave." 

Bayenne sighed as he walked with Korde through the cool, elegant corridors.  "That is a very bad person." 

"And a very strong one." 

Bayenne stopped at the entry to a small garden and turned to Korde.  "Would you do it if he ordered you to?" 

Korde leant back, arms crossed over his chest, eyes half-closed.  "Kill you? I would have no choice.  It would give me no pleasure, however.  And it would be a terrible waste." 

"Thank you."  Bayenne smiled.  "A waste.  Not wrong or evil or even unpleasant.  Just a waste.  A sad epitaph." 

Korde pushed himself upright and put both hands on Bayenne's shoulders.  "It doesn't have to be.  He thinks highly of you to give you a choice.  Vader and I are the only Jedis - or should I say ex-Jedis - to ever be offered a place with him.  All the others he has had killed." 

"He must think a great deal of you as well," Bayenne responded, looking up into the bright, wide eyes.  "I can only imagine what sort of Jedi you would have been...." 

Korde gave a snort and turned away.  "A mediocre one, struggling to find some sort of centre, something insubstantial to believe in.  I have power and influence..."

"You have fear and death.  Power yes, but the power to frighten, to hurt, to kill.  Anyone can step on a flower and crush it.  It takes care and skill and love to plant a seed and nurture it to blossom.  There is the difference between us, my friend."  Bayenne walked into the garden and reached out to stroke the petals of a flowering tree.  "Things grow in the light.  In the darkness they die.  In the end, there would be only darkness, and nothing living in it."  He turned back to Korde.  "A universe of night and death.  Is that the future you would will to those that follow after us?" 

He saw a flicker of doubt in the fine features and he stretched out his hand; in a moment Korde's control slammed down and he smiled, a cold, tight look, the look of the predator.  Stepping forward, he put both hands behind Bayenne's head, pulled him closer and kissed him with long, sensuous pleasure.  Baynne tried very hard to resist the rising passion but without realising it he was holding Korde, his own arms wrapped tightly around the tall, strong body. 

"You shouldn't do that," Korde whispered, nuzzling the white throat.  "You shouldn't make me question myself.  I can't afford to question, not here."  He wrapped his arms around Bayenne and kissed him again until they both staggered from the heat of their need.  Bayenne pushed himself away somehow, wiping his eyes, fighting for control. 

"Take me to my prison room, Korde.  Nothing, absolutely nothing, can come of this.  I want you, I probably always will.  But I just can't be what you want me to be." 

Korde's eyes hardened and he nodded.  "Follow me then."  He walked away and after a moment Bayenne followed. 

Bayenne spent the rest of the day alone, thinking.  The quarters provided for him were large and comfortable with a superb view of the city beyond the Palace walls.  He watched the afternoon pass, playing on his gitar, thinking, reading some of the booktapes on the shelves.  But mostly he thought of Korde, of his murderous anger, his passion, his wonderful, intense strength.  And he felt again the guilt of having lost him to the Dark.  Logic told him that Korde had gone searching for it and that nothing his teachers could have done would have made a difference.  But guilt isn't logical. 

It was night when Korde returned; Bayenne was already dressed for bed and was sitting in a chair by the window, plucking idlly at his gitar, looking out at the city lights.  

Korde walked up behind him and slid his arms down around the smaller man, pulling him to his feet, burying his face in the back of Bayenne's neck. 

Bayenne turned his head and sniffed, letting his gitar slide to the floor.  "You've been drinking." 

"Yes."  The words were muffled.  "I needed to get warm, I've been so cold.  Will you help me get warm again, Bay?" 

Stiffening in the hard grasp, Bayenne tried to pull away.  The resistance seemed to enflame Korde; he pulled Bayenee around and tore the front of the robe away from the other man's body and bent his head to lick the warm chest. 

"Korde, let me go.  You don't know what you're doing." 

"I do.  I finally do.  I've had enough of waiting.  I want you now!" 

Bayenne could feel Korde's desire, it was a flame bursting out of him, a flame the younger man fed with his anger.  Locking his eyes to Bayenne's, Korde stepped back and began to slowly and carefully undress.  Bayenne watched, trapped by the dark, hot eyes, unable to resist as Korde pulled off the rest of his nightrobe and pushed him back onto the bed.  Coming to his senses finally, Bayenne tried to roll aside but Korde pulled him back with a flick of Force power, rolling him onto his back.  Korde spread himself over the pale body beneath him, head to toe. 

Bayenne looked up into the flushed face, sensed the growing hunger..and something else.  Guilt.  Buried, pushed down but still there.  He'd drunk many cups of wine to try and still that voice of conscience but Bayenne could sense it.  He stopped struggling and twisted his arms free to put his hands to Korde's face, holding both cheeks in his hands.  

"Korde...Korde listen to me.  This is the Dark Side, not you.  Listen to me.."  He shook Korde's head a little, making him blink.  "Korde...if you must take me, don't take me like an animal.  Take me like a lover." 

The words and the love behind seemed to penetrate Korde's reason and he flushed, still held by the warm hands.  "I don't...I don't know how..." 

"Then I'll show you."  He pulled Korde's head down and kissed him, first on his eyes, then his cheeks, finally his mouth, with infinite tenderness.  His hands moved down to the stiffly muscled shoulders, down the arms to Korde's hips, then gently pushed him onto his side.  As Korde closed his eyes in growing bliss, Bayenne slid his arms around him, stroking his back, moving against him in a slow, sensuous dance of skin-on-skin.  Korde groaned and arched backwards as Bayennne began kissing and caressing his chest, stomach and the soft skin of his thighs.  Finally he took Korde's half-aroused penis into his mouth. 

Korde quivered, tried to speak, but the mouth and tongue were doing things that made speech impossible.  Bayenne manipulated him to the very edge of some sort of fatal explosion of pleasure before sliding up and locking his legs around Korde's chest.  Korde looked down into wide golden eyes, clearly unsure.  

Breathless, Bayenne rubbed against him.  "Yes, my love...now...." 

Korde climbed to his knees, wrapped his hands around the pale buttocks, pulled the muscled opening apart and thrust himself down inside Bayenne's body. 

Making love to another Force sensitive was a little like making love to yourself, Bayenne discovered.  They felt each other's feelings and needs, knew the way the penis felt trapped in the hot, tight channel, the way the body felt stroked from within, the way the hands felt touching, holding, caressing.  Bound together in more ways than the physical, they found an absolute oneness that comes rarely.  The final consummation was almost too much to bear.

Still a little drunk in spite of the experience, Korde nuzzled his face into Bayenne's neck and closed his eyes.  "You'll stay with me now, won't you....you won't leave me if..."  He didn't finish the sentence;  with a deep sigh of contentment, Korde fell asleep. 

Bayenne stayed awake longer, staring into the dark, worried and fulfilled all at once.  It would be pleasant to believe that what Korde felt for him was more than lust and need.  He wanted it to be more, to match the feelings he had for Korde.  But he knew full well that love wasn't always mirrored equally.  And perhaps it was cruel to want it.  He would suffer enough in the following days without sensing an equal pain from Korde. 

He felt a sudden rush of power as the door opened and a figure stood outlined in the light.  He saw the watchful yellow eyes, felt the pleased wash of Palpatine's malign touch on his body and mind, sensed the satisfaction, the cruelty and perveted interest.  With a smile that showed through the darkness, Palptaine turned and left without speaking and the door closed behind him, cutting off the light.

 

                               * * *

 

Bayenne spent the next two days wandering the Palace and the nights with Korde.  No reasonable plan came to mind and as the time passed he knew that none would.  But the more time he spent with Korde, the difficult it was to reach any sort of peaceful resignation.  Korde stirred him to passion, to laughter, to pleasures he'd never thought to know.  With Korde he was young and free and life seemed very special and prescious.  To throw it away for some airy sort of principle became harder to accept. 

On the last day Korde arrived at his quarters bearing some wrapped parcels.  He set them on the bed and began to unwrap them.  "You haven't changed your clothes in days.  If I may say so, they're starting to show the wear.  I've got you some underwear changes and another set of pants and jacket." 

He unwrapped some items of clothing from their tissue covering and laid them on the bed.  Along with a soft, long sleeved shirt of creamy Darvinian silk was a jacket of dark wine-coloured velvet and trousers made to fit inside matching long suede boots.  There was a black lined slightly lighter coloured cloak and a belt with a gold buckle.  "Now that," Korde said, holding up the jacket, "will suit you very well, I think.  I considered black, but black really isn't your colour." 

Bayenne sighed.  "I don't really feel like dressing up.  Why can't I just have my own clothes cleaned?" 

"You can but it will take time."  He gave Bayenne a very boyish begging grin.  "Try it on for me, Bay." 

"Anything for a quiet life," Bayenne said, stripping off his old clothes.  He pulled on the pants and shirt, then the jacket.  It was a remarkably good fit and he smoothed a hand down the warm cloth as Korde buckled on the belt and tossed the cloak over his shoulder.  He turned Bayenne towards the full length mirror on one wall and stood behind him, clipping the cloak on from behind him.  Resting his chin on Bayenne's shoulder, he smiled at the reflected image.  "I'm good.  I knew it would look great."

The warm deep colour made Bayenne skin and hair glow;  he silently agreed with Korde - he did look fine.  It was a long time since he'd dressed in velvet and silk.  Korde stood suddenly and snapped his finger.  "I forgot the gloves.  I'll just be a minute." 

After Korde had left Bayenne looked at his image and suddenly realised what he was doing _.  I've always liked to dress well but on the Reach it didn't seem so important.  He's triggered those old conceits in my again.  You're a weak fool, Bayenne Forelle!_

Angry at himself for his weakness, Bayenne stripped off the clothing and was pushing his feet into his old boots when Korde walked in with a pair of gloves in one hand.  The pleased smile faded to a frown.  "What...what are you doing?!" 

"Coming to my senses."  He stood and faced his lover with a calm that was only partially real.  "I am what I am and fancy clothes will not make me into an Imperial puppet."  The calm faded in the face of Korde's hurt anger.  "Damn it, Korde, I can't be what you want me to be!" 

Korde threw the gloves on the floor.  "Fine.  Let's go."  He grabbed Bayenne's arm and pulled him out of the room.  A pair of Imperial guards materialised behind them and walked with them to the Emperor's quarters.  At the door Bayenne shook himself free.  "It isn't necessary to manhandle me.  I'm not going to run away."  He hesitated for a heartbeat, then turned and took Korde's flushed face between his hands.  Korde tried to pull away but Bayenne held him in a Force-manipulating grip.  "I will love you until death and beyond," he said softly, giving Korde a soft kiss on the lips.  "No matter what happens here today, I wanted you to know that." 

He let his hands drop and turned forward as the door opened.  Not waiting for Korde, he stepped through and walked across the marble floor towards the two figures at the far end of the room.  He sensed Korde following him but was unable to read him in the increasing buzz of Force energies within the room. 

They were waiting for him; Bayenne felt as if he were being sucked into a maelstrom of darkness and anticipation.  He knew it had to be his imagination but the room seemed to have dimmed until he walked through shadows, the only piece of light in the huge room.  At the right moment he stopped, found his centre of calm, and waited. 

Korde passed him, stopped before the Emperor and Vader, and bowed.  Palpatine ignored him and spoke to Bayenne.  "Can I assume from your attitude and bearing that you have chosen not to serve me, Bayenne Forelle?" 

"You assume correctly." 

Palpatine nodded slowly, eyes hidden.  "Very well.  Korde - kill this man for me." 

Korde flinched visibly.  "Master, I....." 

The Emperor looked at him at last.  "Do you hesitate?" 

Even through the turmoil of emotions around him, Bayenne felt Korde waver.  Palpatine certainly sensed it; he stood and lifted one pale hand towards Korde.  "Because you indulge yourself with this man, do not think to throw away your position and your life for him.  I have given you an order.  Obey me!" 

Korde shook his head.  "I...I can't..." 

The pale hand twitched and a ribbon of blue-white flame arched through the air into Korde's body.  Korde screamed and staggered back, arms up trying to defend himself.  Bayenne started forward but found Vader suddenly in his path.  The Dark Lord's deep voice hissed at him.  "Keep to your place, Jedi." 

Bayenne stepped to one side, saw Korde stumble and fall as the Emperor continued to pour sheets of energy into his body.  As Vader tried to move in front of him again Bayenne drew on the Force and thrust a shaft of power at Vader, pushing him backwards.  Before Vader could recover Bayenne leapt around him and headed towards Korde. 

He was stopped by a shaft of blue power from Palpatine.  Throwing up a defensive shield of energy he gritted his teeth and thrust thepower backwards, keeping it away from his body.  He was dimly aware of Korde lying semi-conscious on the floor but it took all his concentration to keep Palpatine's terribly power from touching him.  

He was succeeding until he sensed something coming at him from behind.  He ducked a shaft of red light, pulling out his own lightsabre as Vader struck at him from behind.  He engaged Vader's blade and felt Palpatine's attack switch from him back to Korde.  And he also sensed his control slipping as fury and anguish began filling his mind with emotion and his body with heat. 

He danced around Vader, his golden blade weaving a deadly pattern about the Dark Lord.  Vader was immensely strong but, compared to Bayenne, slow.  Bayenne slipped in one strike on Vader's helmet, then another on his lower left arm, then a third on his back.  The blows were not deep but they hurt and enraged Vader, making him stronger, but also less controlled.  Finally, Bayenne pretende to slip; Vader lunged forward.  Bayenne flicked his blade under Vader's, clipping the handle and sending the blade spinning out of Vader's grip.  As he pulled himself he flicked one foot around Vader's ankles, kicking him off balance.  As Vader staggered Bayenne sent a dark bolt of energy into the Dark Lord, flinging him backwards against the wall. 

The fight had taken only a couple of minutes but as soon as Bayenne turned he knew that Korde was in a bad way.  He lay stretched on the floor, barely conscious as Palpatine continued to pour the destructive power into him.  Furious, Bayenne screamed, taking the energy that his anger fed to him and hurling it at Palpatine.  The white spear splashed against Palpatine's defenses, making him stagger.  He turned to Bayenne, launching his full power at him.  

The air in the room crackled under the assault of the deadly energies.  A part of Bayenne growled in satisfaction at the fear he sensed in the Emperor; he knew Palpatine was amazed as his power, as well he should be.  Given time, he might even kill the Emperor.  But Vader was there, climbing to his feet and sending missiles across the room to slam into Bayenne.  He could not defend in two directions and attack the Emperor as well. 

Some of the Vader's missiles began to get through Bayenne's divided defences.  A chair struck his back, a statue sliced him across his forehead causing a long gash.  A stream of blood dripped into his eyes as another piece of furnite smashed into his thigh, sending him down to one knee.  In frustrated fury he turned his attack on Vader; before he realised his mistake Palpatine struck, hammering him down to the floor. 

Finally, he knew he was beaten.  On his back on the cold marble, he let his defences slip away and waited for death.  Then, suddenly, the bright agony stopped and he looked up into Palpatine's pale face.  He could see the satisfaction in the yellow eyes and as he started to think again, he realised why. 

"I have always thought," Palpatine said, "that a Jedi Master would make a formidable servant.  Together, we will shake the Universe."  The Emperor bent over and placed one hand on Bayenne's forehead.  "For now, you may sleep." 

There was a flash of cold fire and darkness.

 

                               * * *

 

Korde woke to the sound of a gitar being played.  Or plucked at least, two or three notes played over and over, discordant and harsh. 

He sat up carefully, aware of various aches and pains and the stirring of a mammoth headache.  But even more than that, he was aware of Bayenne.  Where once had been light was now dark, a swirling centre of great power but unfocused, confused, hurting.  Bayenne was sitting in a chair by the window, his gitar on his lap, his fingers flicking at the strings. 

Korde pulled himself off the bed and went to him.  As he laid his hand on Bayenne's shoulder his love looked up, and Korde almost groaned at the unfocused misery in the golden gaze. 

"I can't seem to get this string to tune.  It was fine this morning but now it just seems to slip out all the time."  Bayenne twisted the tuning knob and plucked the string again but it was still discordant.  "It's very odd.  This gitar never loses its tune.  I've had it since I started Jedi training.  Morelle made it for me.  He was a great Master instrument maker.  He carved it from Gingerwood and soaked the wood in Beralis.  That's what gives it the lovely copperish glow."  He fiddled again, plucked, but the string wouldn't sing true.  "Oh well, I suppose I shall have to get another one."  

With that, he lifted the gitar and smashed it against the wall, shattering the fragile wood into a dozen pieces.  He let the neck fall to the floor and stared down at it.  "I shouldn't be using it anyhow.  It belonged to a Jedi.  That's probably why it wouldn't tune." 

Korde fell to his knees amid the rubble and took Bayenne's hand.  It was cold and restless, the fingers twitching in nervous agitation.  He held it in both hands, trying to warm it as Bayenne spoke.  His voice was distant, his eyes looking at something far off. 

"Before I left home to go to school, when I was still young, one of my mother's songbirds panicked and flew into the bars of its cage and hurt itself.  I remember picking it up; I could feel the flutter of its tiny, terrified heart.  It was frightened and in pain.  I held it there and did something that I didn't know I knew how to do.  I healed it, knitted its little broken bones, soothed its pain and it flew out of my hand singing."  Bayenne's eyes filled and tears ran down his cheecks.  "I w..was fourteen years old.  It was wonderful; the first...time I healed something. And now...I c..cant't...can't feel it.  It's g.gone."  He looked down at his hand, pulled it fee and laid it on Korde's head.  "I could kill you....I know how.  The power tells me how I could kill you.  But I can't heal you."  He was almost blind from the tears.  "You should have obeyed him.  Letting me live like this was a terribly cruel thing to do." 

Korde moaned and rocked on his heels, wondering if it was possible to die of misery.  "Nothing," he whispered, "nothing I've ever done has turned out right."  He remembered suddenly what his father had told him once when, as a young greedy child, he’d lusted for things not his own.  _Be careful what you wish for…you may end up getting it…And now I have what I wanted only to find I’ve destroyed it, and myself, in the getting…”_

 


End file.
